


Meat Suit

by phoenixburncold



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean finally getting to be ridden around by an angel, Healing, Leviathan - Freeform, and not in the fun way haha, angel possession, cracking myself up at 2am, don't be a Dick, haha - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4928935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixburncold/pseuds/phoenixburncold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel nearly gets killed. Dean offers himself as a meat suit until Castiel is healed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Alright Cass, we got our call, what is it?” Dean called as he entered the room, almost bored. When no voice responded, Dean snapped, “Cass?” Then he caught sight of the body. “CASS!”

Castiel flew from one end of his cage to the other, trying desperately to escape the spell that had bound him. The body that had once been shared by the angel and the man known as Jimmy Novak lay slumped near the doorway of the room. With no being in it, the body was already starting to decay. Castiel saw the horror on Dean’s face as the hunter looked at the body and it mirrored the angel’s own dismay.

Castiel struggled against the bonds, hoping perhaps he could break the spell on his own, but was unsuccessful. The angel was rapidly being torn apart. He called out to Dean, trying to draw his gaze from the body the hunter had known Castiel as toward the form Castiel was in now, just around the corner.

Dean winced but familiarity shone in his eyes as Castiel shouted, “Dean! Over here!” 

The hunter could not understand Castiel’s words, but the high pitched noise that was Castiel's voice was seared in Dean’s mind. Sam came into the room and saw the body Dean was standing in front of. The taller hunter froze, looking between his brother and the body. “Dean, is he – ?”

“I don’t know,” Dean replied. Cautiously, Dean edged around the corner, the angel blade held loosely in his hand. The hunter saw Castiel and his eyes went wide. “Cass…that you?” Sam quickly rounded the corner and blinked hard.

The noise sounded again, painfully loud in the hunters’ ears. Both stared at the blue-white shape that was bouncing around an almost too bright gold design that stretched across two walls. Even as they watched the shape seemed to fade, strips left behind as it moved in a panicked manner. “Calm down,” Dean said. Castiel flitted from one side to the other. “Stop moving!” The angel stilled, certain Dean knew it was him but he was rapidly fading, the gold now washing out any sign of blue.

“Dean,” Sam said. “The sigil.”

“Yea,” Dean replied, striding forward as Sam did. On opposite sides, the hunters slammed the butt of their blades into the wood, splintering the edges of the spell.

Castiel flew straight to the body he had inhabited, but the damage was done, to both bodies.

Castiel took a shuddering breath, opening his eyes to find the Winchesters racing toward him. He could not move his limbs and pain seared through his skull and grace. 

“Cass what the hell?” Sam asked.

Castiel took a breath. “Spell,” he managed. “Angel…trap.”

“Whoa, hey,” Dean said, dropping to a knee in front of Castiel. “Are you okay? I mean, now?”

It was painful to breathe. The decay had eaten at the organs and Castiel was a ghost of himself, barely enough grace left to stay alive much less heal.

“No,” Castiel managed. He would die like this if something wasn’t done quickly.

Panic filled both Winchesters’ eyes. “What do you need?” Dean asked.

“Soul,” Castiel gasped.

“Take it,” Dean said, moving closer to Castiel.

The angel shook his head. “No,” he gasped. “I...” It would take too long to explain and time was quickly running out. “Like…Gadreel,” he said, hoping one of them would understand.

Sam unconsciously took a step away from Castiel while Dean’s face went hard. Luckily both hunters knew better than to let their first reaction stick for long. It was Sam who understood first. 

“You need a body?” Sam asked. “To heal yourself?”

Castiel nodded, just barely.

“You got a body,” Dean said, confused.

“Yea,” Sam replied making Dean shift his gaze to his younger brother, “But think about it. Cass said Jimmy was dead, in Heaven. So there’s no soul to power up on.”

Realization lit up Dean’s eyes and Castiel nodded, the motion minimal.

“Fine,” Dean said, turning back to look at Castiel. “Take me.”

“Dean – ” Sam started.

“Shut up Sammy,” Dean ordered gently, looking at his brother. “You had your share of being ridden around. It’s my turn for once.” Dean’s green eyes locked onto Castiel’s blue ones. “Take me.”

Castiel gave the smallest of nods, breaths coming short and fast. “Hand,” he managed. Dean gripped Castiel’s wrist gently. Flesh to flesh contact was all the angel needed to transfer himself into Dean’s body.

~

Castiel poured into Dean’s body, seeping into his pores like water. He saw Dean’s consciousness fade away. In the vast space that was the hidden place where souls lived in flesh bodies, there was gold. Dean’s consciousness was gone but his soul burned brightly, filling the space. Castiel concentrated a moment before gently nudging Dean’s soul. It reacted immediately to his touch, wrapping over itself in a hundred thousand ways before stopping. Castiel shifted toward it, the soul now a ball of loosely bound energy. The angel pulled himself toward consciousness as he came to a stop beside Dean's soul.

Twenty seconds had passed since Dean first gripped Castiel’s wrist.

~

There was a white glow that blinded Sam before the body against the wall slumped again. Dean sat straighter before standing, his eyes glowing angel blue a moment longer before returning to their normal green. Sam looked at his brother cautiously. “You okay?” he asked, not sure who he was asking.

“Dean is fine,” Castiel said with Dean’s voice. “However, he will be unconscious for several minutes.”

“Yea,” Sam sighed. He remembered what that was like.

Dean’s head tilted in that perfect Castiel way. “Don’t worry Sam. As soon as he becomes conscious it will be as if I wasn’t even here.”

Sam nodded before turning away slightly. It was hard enough seeing Dean move like Castiel, much less trying to bat away the memories he had long tried to stamp down. “So that spell,” Sam started, looking at the broken design.

“A spell created to pull angels out of their vessels and trap them,” Castiel explained. “Very few know of it. The creature I was tracking was prepared for me.”

“And what exactly happened to you?” Sam asked. “You were…shrinking.”

“Angels can’t survive in their true form on Earth for long, something God Himself had decreed long ago in an attempt to stop Lucifer from destroying His beloved creations.”

“I guess God didn’t consider how pissed Lucifer was,” Sam said bitterly.

“No,” Castiel replied softly. “Nor how creative Lucifer truly was.”

“So how long is it gonna take?” Sam asked, looking at his brother, trying to just see the angel inside. “Before you’re back to normal?”

“A few days,” Castiel replied. He looked at the body that had been his vessel for over six years. “I can return to that body and repair it once I am at full strength.”

“So…we should bring it along?” Sam asked, looking at Castiel with a face that was mixed disgust and questioning.

“Yes,” Castiel replied.

Sam sighed. “Alright then. I’ll get the plastic.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was floating. He was floating and it was bright and he wasn’t really sure if he was breathing. All around him was a mixture of blue, white, and gold, unbroken and indistinguishable from each other. He had seen pictures of the ocean, where the blue of the sky and the blue of the water were so alike he couldn’t say for certain where one ended and the other began; this was what it was like. Dean opened his mouth and found he didn’t have one. Still he called out, _Hello?_

_Dean._

Castiel’s voice. 

Dean smiled – or at least that’s what he thought he was doing. _So it worked?_ the hunter asked.

_It did,_ Castiel replied. _Thank you._

_Hey, no problem. Everything…okay out there?_

_Yes,_ came the reply, though it was softer than before. _I’m going to rest now,_ Castiel said.

_Okay buddy,_ Dean replied.

There was another blinding flash of blue-white, like the moment Dean had been conscious when Castiel poured into him, and then he had a body again.

Dean took a breath and blinked rapidly, finding himself sitting in the passenger’s seat of the Impala. The road ahead was empty and trees passed swiftly beside him.

Sam looked at him, slowing the Impala slightly as he took his eyes off the road. “You okay?” Sam asked his brother.

“Yea,” Dean replied, flexing his hands now that he had them again. “Wow that was weird.”

“Yea,” Sam exhaled. “Well you didn’t have to hear Castiel talk with your voice.”

Dean looked at Sam as the taller hunter shifted his gaze back to the road. “Sam – .”

“Cass says it’ll be a few days before he’s a hundred percent,” Sam interrupted, not wanting to talk about it. “His body’s in the trunk.”

“Great,” Dean replied, catching his brother’s not so subtle hint. “A rotting body in the trunk. We’re gonna need some air fresheners.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean knew his body pretty well. You didn’t become a hunter – or at least you didn’t stay a hunter long – without a good deal of body awareness. He knew when a bone was broken or just bruised, knew a torn ligament and flesh-wound from a strain and vital organ strike. And one of the first things Dean had tested when he got his body back was any sense of strain. He figured holding an angel would bring him some kind of discomfort or that he’d feel heavier or…well anything. But Dean didn’t feel any different. He felt like himself. He didn’t feel dragged down or powered-up. There was absolutely nothing to distinguish the fact he was literally carting around an angel in his chest.

Dean wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried. He wanted to talk to Sam about it, but could tell from Sam’s deflections he didn’t want to talk about it. So Dean carried it silently, as he did much of his feelings.

“So let me get this straight,” Dean started as he gripped the wheel of the Impala, driving toward Texas. He _did_ feel better back behind the wheel. “Cass found some Leviathans that somehow got a hold of a book with the designs to trap or kill practically every known supernatural entity we know of and they’re planning to…what again?”

“Cass thinks they’re going to try to bring Dick back,” Sam answered.

“And the Men of Letters never got a hold of it?” Dean asked. “Seems like it’s a book they’d want to track down and have.”

Sam shrugged. “Copies? Or maybe they never heard of it before. I mean we never heard of it before.”

Dean mimicked his brother’s shrug but made a note to ask Castiel…later. Then he asked the second question that was nagging him. “But if the book is just has traps how do they think they’re gonna bring Dick back?”

“It has a few summons too,” Sam corrected, peering at the notes Castiel had scribbled while Sam had been driving. Sam tried not to remember how wrong it was to watch Castiel’s flowing handwriting coming from the pen grasped in Dean’s fingers. “Apparently summons strong enough to tear a hole in Purgatory and pull Dick through, but only if they have the right materials and it’s done during a…” Sam squinted to read the words in the failing daylight. “A night with a blood moon.”

Dean gave Sam a double take. “A _**blood moon**_?”

“Yea,” Sam breathed. “Which, get this, is next week.”

“’Course it is,” Dean muttered. “How come these things can’t be like a year away when we find them out?”

Sam gave a breathy laugh. “Just not our luck I guess.”

Dean made a face before watching the sun set to his left. “So who’s in charge? I mean someone has to be calling the shots.”

“Cass didn’t know. He said he had gotten word one of the more ancient spells had been used from the book and that’s how he got on the case. Guess they were expecting him, cuz he hadn’t been following for more than a day before getting stuck in that trap we found him in.”

Dean grunted, yet again trying to feel differently and failing. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “So we’re headed to Texas because?”

“One of the things they need for the summons is in Texas,” Sam replied after a few moments of skimming Castiel’s notes. “A piece of a creature adored as a god by thousands. Cass thinks it’s…” Sam squinted again making sure he was reading it right and gave another breathy laugh. “He thinks it’s the collie mascot for the Texas A&M University.”

Dean jerked the wheel slightly. “A dog?” he asked incredulously.

Sam sat back thoughtfully. “I mean, mascots are kinda the face of a football team,” he said. "And the Texas A&M University is one of the bigger universities in this area.

“Yea, but adored as a god?” Dean asked. “Why not a celebrity or something?”

“I dunno,” Sam replied. “But that’s what Cass says.”

“Any chance he’s wrong?”

“Well it’s not like I can ask him for his reasoning,” Sam snapped.

Dean’s mouth tightened into a line. “We could,” he mused after a few moments.

“No,” Sam said quickly.

“What’s the big deal Sammy?”

“He said not to wake him. He said he didn’t _need_ to be woken.”

“Yea, but if we go for the wrong thing – ”

“Then we’ll just catch them for the next thing they need,” Sam finished.

Dean sighed and flicked the headlights on the Impala on. The growing darkness was beat back by the two beams of light.

“Not sure why you’re the one freaked out when it’s me carrying the angel,” Dean muttered a few moments later.

Sam merely glared at him. 

Dean sighed again. “Alright then,” he said. “Texas A&M University here we come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there is such a huge gap in times for the chapters. I'm having a rough time and splitting my limited focus on three stories is making it harder. I'll do more on this and the Sastiel story soon, I'm just in a work-crazed funk right now. Hope you like it so far, I've got some other pieces in my head just need to fill the holes.


	4. Chapter 4

“How the hell are we supposed to grab him now?” Dean seethed quietly, watching the dog happily wagging his tail from across the football field as the players scrambled for the ball.

Sam vented a breath beside him. “I dunno Dean. Maybe if _someone_ hadn’t flirted with the Gas N Sip attendant for ten minutes we could have gotten here before the game.”

“Hey, she was cute,” Dean snapped. “And the last time _you_ flirted with an attendant _I_ ended up trussed in the backseat of the Impala about to get mauled by a ghoulpire. So you lucked out.”

Sam heaved another breath. “Fine, whatever. Look. We’ve got our eyes on the dog. So if a leviathan tries for him, we’ll just –”

“How the hell are we supposed to know who’s a leviathan in this kind of crowd,” Dean asked, waving his hand to the packed bleachers.

Sam grit his teeth. “I don't know.”

Dean sighed heavily. “Well…let’s just try to get closer so if anyone makes a move we can spray ‘em and haul them away.”

Sam nodded and the two hunters made their way silently around the field, ending up near enough to protect collie mascot but still out of prying eyes. Both had small squirt bottles filled with borax in their large jacket pockets. “Oh,” Sam said, digging a hand in his jean’s pocket before handing Dean a small baggie filled with brown crumbling pieces. Dean raised his eyebrows. “Dog treats,” Sam explained, slightly exasperated. 

“When’d you snag these?”

“Right around the time you were saying you would love to go to the beach sometime with Rachel.”

Dean’s eyes lit up. “Oh yea, right. Man, can you see her giving out drinks on the beach? If she makes that frumpy register shirt look good, can you imagine her in a bathing suit?”

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean took the baggie and stuffed it in his own pocket, mind on beaches and martnis.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean couldn’t see straight. His head began to ache as soon as he regained consciousness. He knew he was on concrete and the rough hand that had slapped him awake gave off that slight oily feel all leviathans had. _Shit_ , Dean thought, recalling the last moments of consciousness. The oily bastards had caught Sam off guard with a baseball bat and Dean only managed a few sprays of borax before the third leviathan caught Dean in the knees and then two hard hits to the head.

As Dean blinked open his eyes he realized they were in the storage building for all the equipment. Sam sat on the floor opposite of Dean, bound like he was with what looked like braided jump-rope. The material bit into Dean’s wrists and ankles, adding their own notes of pain to symphony his body was giving him. Both hunters sat on the concrete, the containers and cages for equipment at their backs and three leviathan between them.

“The famous Dean and Sam Winchester,” the first one said, with brown hair and wicked eyes.

“We thought you might show up,” added the second, spiked black hair his major feature.

“Especially since your angel friend got whittled into nothing,” the third said, tattoos on his wrist shimmering under the pale lights.

“Joke’s on you,” Dean spat. “He’s just fine.” That earned him a swift kick to the gut, making the hunter double over as much as he could with his hands tied behind his back and feet in front of him. “Ow.” Dean blinked hard before he heard the telltale sound of a bat hitting bone, followed quickly by a groan of pain from Sam. Dean’s head snapped up, eyes slightly unfocused but angry all the same. “Hey!”

Sam’s nose bled sluggishly from the hit and he looked slightly dazed.

Another bat slammed into Dean’s head, sparking lights in his vision.

“Don’t worry,” said the first leviathan before striking Dean’s bent back. “We’ll make sure you get plenty.”

Dean coughed, blood coating his teeth and slipping past his lips to drop in a line into his lap. He strained at the bindings. _This isn’t good_ , Dean thought before he caught another blow. Disoriented, Dean still knew two ribs were already cracked, and his lungs were starting to fill with blood. Something was definitely wrong with his head too. He wasn't even sure if he could stand up if they let him. Blinking up at Sam with double vision, Dean realized his brother definitely couldn't see straight either and another _SMACK_ by a metal bat couldn't mask the sound of a bone breaking in Sam's leg. Sam cried out and Dean struggled against the bindings again before a bat cracked another rib in his chest.


	6. Chapter 6

Castiel had been sleeping. Curled against the wall of Dean’s soul like a cat against a warm furnace, Castiel had slept, slowly, carefully drawing energy from the soul, healing as he did so. When Dean’s life was threatened, when his soul felt the beginnings of being released, it shuddered. Castiel woke immediately, startled. Dean’s soul shuddered again and now Castiel was rising, pulling himself through the vast space to look through Dean’s eyes and see the bat swing again, slamming into Dean’s face. Within the space of a blink, Castiel had taken hold of Dean’s consciousness, gently shoving it down toward his soul and the angel rose, taking Dean’s place, healing the body as he did.

There was a small flash of blue in Dean’s pain-hazed green eyes before Dean’s body snapped fully upright. No one caught the brief color change, but they did notice how his eyes had cleared, hardening into green ice chips and his body was stiff where it had seconds ago been bent over in agony. Sam blinked slowly, wondering if what he thought had happened really had occurred.

“You will not touch him again,” Dean sneered and Sam knew immediately it was Castiel. He hoped Cass had showed up time to get them out of there alive.

“'Him’?” jested the tattooed leviathan. He turned to look at the other two leviathan. “Maybe you hit him a little too hard that time. He’s starting to talk in the third person.” The three laughed.

Their mirth was quickly cut short when Castiel snapped the bindings on Dean with a simple tug. In the several seconds it took for Sam to blink and then focus again, Castiel had already doused the nearest leviathan in borax and released Sam from his bindings. Dean’s hand helped Sam stand before he disappeared and reappeared with two machetes in hand. Sam swallowed heavily before grasping the blade offered him. Castiel fought, using his own machete to split the tattooed leviathan’s skull. Sam quickly removed the brown-haired leviathan’s head from his neck before getting hit over the head again by the last leviathan. Castiel hacked through the leviathan’s neck, knocking its head onto the floor before the body followed.

Sam grinned weakly before his knees went weak. The hunter dropped his blade as he slumped. Castiel dropped his own machete to grab Sam before he fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still plan to finish this, but I'm gonna focus a bit more on my Sastiel and personal work, so this may be the last chapter for a stretch. I WILL finish it though!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took me so long to get to this. But here, I promised, so I'm working on it again!

Sam opened his eyes and blinked against the light. His forehead was pressed against the glass of the passenger's window of the Impala, wedged between the window and headrest of his seat. The sun flashed at him through the trees as the Impala rumbled under him, driving up the paved street. Sam sat up, giving himself whiplash and a headache as he turned to look at the driver.

Dean, hearing the noise of his moose of a brother waking up, shifted to look at him. He cracked a wide grin. "Afternoon sleepy!"

"Dean?"

"And aren't you lucky I didn't stick a spoon in your mouth?" Dean chuckled. "Almost did. But then you looked so adorable sleeping. Or you know 'resting after your ordeal.' That's much better than 'fainted.'" Dean chuckled again.

"What. The. Hell."

"Cass saved our asses. You... _rested_ ," Dean tried not to laugh, "and Cass got you back to the Impala." His cheer faded. "They got the dog though. Cass said he took care of the Leviathan trying to be the fill in. Figured better get all of them down so they didn't munch a kid during a game."

Sam huffed. "Yeah," he said. He raked a hand through his hair. "Okay, so now what? And you, how are you?"

Dean glanced at Sam. "Well Cass said he had written the ingredients on that paper you had and where he thought they'd pick it all up. We've got a week, so it gives us some time. I figure we just keep our ears and eyes open and try to pull as many hunter eyes and ears into we can across the country. It concerns all of us, probably just as important as the British dicks."

"Yeah," Sam agreed before waiting for Dean to answer his second question.

The Impala rumbled under them, the only noise.

"So...you okay?" Sam asked.

"Yep."

"Nothing more you want to add there?"

"Nope."

"Really? Nothing?"

Dean glanced at his brother again. "What do you want me to say Sam? That I feel weird because I _don't_ feel weird? That I'm pretty sure I almost died back there, with you in front of me and we got saved only because Cass just happened to be around? That I'm freaking out a little bit and the only other person I'd want to talk about it with is freezing me out on the topic?"

Sam was quiet for a moment. "I'm not freezing you out," he said softly. "It's just weird for me. Being on either side is weird, I know, but... I don't know. I guess I still have a little PTSD about the situation. But...if you need to talk, then talk." 

Dean looked at Sam steadily now. "Really?"

Sam met his brother's look. "Yeah."

Dean nodded. "Okay," he said, breathing out. There was a moment of silence. "So...did you feel any different when you...?"

Sam let out a breath. "Not at first. I mean, there were these blackouts, but at first no. Then, later on, after a lot of time actually, I felt...I don't know how to describe it exactly. Like, I was me, but there was something else there that didn't quite fit."

Dean nodded. "I guess...maybe it's just because I know there's something-one else there. But I can't _feel_ it.

"Well, Cass is using you to heal himself. Wasn't Gadreel just healing me?"

"You were healing each other. He said he would heal you while healing himself."

"Yeah, but I mean, he was there for months. If Cass can heal up in a few days, why did Gadreel need so long while doing almost nothing?"

Dean shook his head. "You - he, he brought Castiel back from the dead when he was human. And he brought back Charlie in the Bunker." Dean went quiet before gripping the wheel tighter. "Maybe that was just too much for him. Like, every time he'd get juiced up enough, something else would happen that sapped him again. Plus Cass said he got an upgrade from just being a regular angel to a Seraph, if that matters. Cass told me Gadreel had been in Heaven Prison for centuries, so they probably kept him at minimal power."

"Makes sense," Sam said.

"Yeah, well." Dean let his grip loosen on the wheel. "You should call the other hunters. Give them the list of ingredients. We'll end these bastards."

"Yeah," Sam replied, fishing out his phone. "I'm on it."


End file.
